Sorry this took so long to get up. Funeral scenes are hard as hell to write. I decided to split the funeral into two chapters, so here is part one.
The morning of the funeral feels exactly like Beca thought it would, but also like nothing she could describe, and definitely nothing she wanted to experience ever again. When she rolls over in bed Chloe is already awake, just staring at her.
"Hey weirdo, how long have you been doing that?"
"Not long."
"Chlo, I'm okay. I promise."
"How could you possibly be okay on a day like today?"
Beca feels like she's cried herself out. Her and her father weren't close by any means, but the idea that she'll never struggle over what to get him for Christmas, or fight with him over her career choices, that he'll never hear her first album, or meet his grandchildren, is all too much to think about. So she doesn't. She's been pushing it all back. She has too much to do to allow her emotions to get in the way.
"It's okay not to be. You know that, right?"
Beca leans over and kisses her. She rolls off the bed and gathers her clothes and a towel.
"I'm gonna shower."
Chloe lets her go. She knows anything else she says will be lost. She pushes herself out of bed. She also knows that today will require a lot of caffeine. For the most part the three of them have been living inside a bubble. Today they're going to be forced to socialize and entertain. The whole situation is going to be thrown in their faces over and over.
When she walks by Lucy's bedroom she peeks her head in to check on her. Her and Beca have been doing this constantly for the past few days. Lucy's barely spoken a word and they're afraid of what she might do if left alone for too long. When the door opens, Lucy is sitting on her bed, she's already in the clothes her and Chloe picked out; black dress pants and a short sleeved button up shirt, her mother's favorite shade of gray. Her hair is still wet from the shower. Chloe isn't sure how she didn't hear the water running but she pushes her thoughts aside. Lucy doesn't even look up at the squeak of the door or the presence of someone in the doorway. She looks a million miles away and like she doesn't exist all at once.
"Hey you."
Nothing.
"Lucy, are you alright?"
This time she does look up at her. Part of Chloe wishes she hadn't because her expression is enough to break her heart. She isn't crying but she looks like she could any second. She's holding something in her fist; she wouldn't have noticed it but whatever it is catches the light and forces Chloe's eyes to her hands. She sits down next to her and examines the cuts on her fingers. She keeps picking at them and making them worse, despite Beca's many warnings.
Chloe decides now, today, isn't the time to bring it up.
"Whatcha got there?"
"It was my grandma's; my mom got it when she died. She always said it would be mine when she…"
"It's beautiful."
She hands it to Chloe. It's a simple silver chain with a small diamond. Lucy lifts her hair so Chloe can fasten it around her neck.
"What's gonna happen today?"
Chloe looks at her, a little confused at first, then she realizes what she's actually asking.
"You've never been to a funeral before?"
She shakes her head. Chloe didn't think there was any way to make today worse, but this does.
"Well, we're going to go to the funeral home and the Chaplin from the church in town has agreed to say a few words and a couple prayers. Then they'll open it up to anyone who wants to say anything about Daniel and She- your parents. Since they're not being buried, that'll pretty much be it. Then people will come back here for food and stuff."
"Do I have to say anything?"
"Not if you don't want to."
"Is Beca going to?"
Chloe nods, "She is, but that doesn't mean you need to."
It's quiet for a minute before Lucy moves to dig through a drawer in her desk. She pulls out a piece of paper.
"I wrote them a letter. Do you think I could read it?"
"I think that's a great idea."
The look on her face reminds Chloe just how young she is. At twelve years old she has already lost way more than Chloe has. She has to live with a gaping hole in her life, knowing exactly what's missing but never being able to replace it.
"Can I ask you one more favor?"
"Of course, anything."
Lucy shifts from one foot to the other. It's something Beca does too; when she's nervous or thinking too much.
"Could you curl my hair?" Chloe smiles, "The way you do to yours. My mom did it once for me and she loved it, so I thought-"
"Of course I can."
Such a simple request but she might as well have been asking for a million dollars the way she was acting. Another way she and Beca are alike; independent, sometimes to a fault.
"First let me make some coffee before Beca turns into a literal monster. We'll finish getting ready a little later. We don't need to leave for a while."
Lucy follows Chloe downstairs and around the kitchen like a puppy. Chloe makes up a plate of scrambled eggs and fruit. She knows full well that Lucy isn't going to eat any of it, but she's not going to stop trying. Beca walks downstairs in her black pants and black button up. She's still barefoot, avoiding putting her heels on until the last possible second. If it were any other occasion Chloe would comment on how beautiful she looks, but it doesn't feel right. She walks right over to the coffeemaker and pours herself a very full cup. She takes a big sip while eyeing Lucy and her plate.
"Eat, Lou. I'm serious."
She tries her best for a strict tone, but today of all days doesn't seem like the time to buckle down on Lucy's avoidance of food. Beca doesn't feel much like eating either but she's decided to lead by example. She forces down almost half of the food on her plate before she needs to give up.
Chloe disappears to shower. The other two sit in silence. The clock on the wall ticks, grating on Beca's very thin patience. She scrapes her nail along the smooth side of her mug. She's trying to think of something, anything, to break the quiet. She leans across the table and takes Lucy's hand in her own to stop her from picking at her nails. She's tempted to duct tape oven mitts on her hands like her mom had threatened to do to her when she had chicken pox.
"You know there's going to be a lot going on today; a lot of people."
"Yeah, I know," Her voice sounds foreign, Beca hasn't heard much of it for the past few days. "Chloe told me what's gonna happen."
Beca, not for the first time in the past few days, silently thanks God for Chloe Beale. She's handled this whole situation with way more grace than Beca could have ever imagined.
"I went to my first funeral when I was around your age. It was for my mom's mom."
"Were you scared?"
"A little bit I guess. It was weird seeing all of the people I love so sad."
"I don't like seeing you sad."
Beca smiles, an awkward half-smile.
"I hate seeing you sad, too. Are you scared about today?"
"A little, I guess. It's just," She shrugs, "this doesn't end it. It's not like the funeral is gonna happen and everything is gonna be okay. It's just the first thing in a long line where I have no idea what's gonna happen."
"I know exactly what you mean." Beca agrees.
Lucy eyes her suspiciously, like she's simply placating her.
"So, I guess we just need to promise each other something."
"What?"
"That we'll take it one step at a time, together. We'll help each other as much as we can along the way."
"Bec, do you think we're gonna be okay?"
Beca sighs. This is the same question she's been asking herself all week.
"I think so. Someday. I hope."
"Hey Lou," Chloe interrupts, "are you ready to do your hair?"
Beca follows them up into the guest bedroom where they've been staying. Lucy sits on the carpet in front of the floor length mirror. Chloe moves around her, curling her light brown hair into perfect spiral curls. She pulls the sides back into a half-up hairstyle. She presses her hands gently to her head, and kisses her hair.
"All set, sweetheart."
Beca has always been grateful for the way Chloe took to Lucy. The first time they met, Lucy was only three. It was Beca's freshman year at Barden. Daniel and Sheila had taken Lucy to one of the Bellas' performances and all of the girls fell in love with her instantly. She became a sort of mascot for them; cheering them on at every event, wearing a tiny Bellas' t-shirt, and, most importantly, softening Beca. Chloe had become infatuated with the little girl. She loved how much she acted like Beca. Although since then, they've grown more and more different; their similarities only fleeting in small moments.
When Beca and Chloe moved to New York Lucy was seven. They've spent much more time apart than they have together. But when they did get to see each other, on holidays and other special occasions, Lucy was adamant that Chloe come too, which she did gladly.
Beca watches the way she does everything with care. Echoing her physical gentleness with her soft voice and softer eyes.
"You look beautiful."
Lucy stands in front of the funeral home. It's more menacing than she remembers it being a few days ago. Beca puts her hand on her back.
"We can do it."
Lucy takes a deep breath and nods.
When they get inside Lucy stays close to Beca's side. Greg is there, looking solemn in his gray suit. He shakes Beca and Chloe's hands and gives a gentle nod to Lucy. She dips her head lower and puts her gaze on the same maroon carpet that lines the floor in his office. She shifts her weight from foot to foot.
"It looks great in here. Thank you." Beca says.
On a table at the front of the room, there are two glassy black boxes; they look like music boxes. One with Daniel's name, the other with Sheila's on small silver plaques. Lucy fights the gurgling in her stomach when she realizes her parents are inside them. They are surrounded by flower arrangements, some with sashes, some with cards. On either end of the table are Daniel and Sheila's high school portraits. In the middle of the boxes, their wedding photo is placed on a metal stand. Underneath it, there is a photo of Sheila, Daniel, Beca, and Lucy from Beca's college graduation. It's one of the few they could find of the four of them.
"That's a nice photo." Stacie says, walking up behind them.
Beca hadn't realized she was there. Stacie wasn't at the house this morning when they woke up but she just assumed she went for a morning run or something. She turns to look her in the eyes. She gives a tight lipped smile and lets herself get pulled into a hug.
"It's all too hard to believe."
"I can't even imagine, Bec."
There are tall candles lit all around and the atmosphere, even for a funeral home, is dismal. It's dark and cold, considering it's Georgia in the summertime; a mood fit for the day.
"Hey short stack."
"Hi Stacie."
"How are you doing?"
Lucy shrugs and lets herself get pulled into a hug. She knows she's going to be doing a lot of that today so she mentally prepares herself. She notices Emily walk through the door and wastes no time rushing over to her. Emily wraps her tightly in her arms and kisses her temple. Lucy wants to cry, she wants to scream, she wants to do something but instead she just leans into Emily's warmth.
More familiar voices start to fill the room. Men in gray and black suits, women in black and gray dresses. Dressed nicely, as if Daniel and Sheila could see them, like they would care what they're wearing. She walks back over to Beca and Chloe and watches the trail of people file through, shaking hands and offering apologies as if it could fix what's been broken.
"Beca, Lucy, how are you holding up, dears?" Mrs. Reed asks, she's one of the few people in the room that sound genuine in asking.
She has that same cracked smile, the same warm eyes that Beca is starting to recognize as her usual appearance. It gives her a comforted feeling that Lucy has grown up next door to someone so kind.
"We're doing as well as expected."
"I'm sure you are."
She rests her shaky hand on Beca's cheek before holding Lucy's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. She moves on, not wanting to hold up the line, but both girls wish she didn't have to go.
The receiving line before the funeral feel like they drag on forever. Beca wishes it would end but when Greg tells them it's time to start the service she wishes that they didn't have to. She takes her seat in the front row of chairs between Chloe and Lucy. Chloe grips her hand tightly in her own and Lucy leans against Beca's side.
Greg welcomes everyone and thanks them for coming before introducing the Chaplin. He's an older man with gentle features. Beca can only assume he's done this a million times based on his neutral expression and lack of nervousness in his appearance. He speaks about Daniel and Sheila with kind words but Beca knows it's all for show. They didn't know him, he didn't know them, but still, it's nice.
"Now I would like to ask Beca, Daniel and Sheila's eldest daughter, to come up and say a few words."
Beca looks to Chloe who offers a reassuring nod and a small smile before letting go of her hand. Beca walks up to the small podium and takes a deep breath. She can't stop herself from shaking but she assumes no one would blame her. She places her piece of paper on the podium and smooths it out a few times before speaking.
"My dad and I, we uh, we didn't agree on much. We never really understood each other. The one thing we always seemed to have in common though was books. He taught me from a really young age to love reading, to learn as much as I could from books; something I know he's taught Lucy too. Growing up, I didn't have a lot of friends except the ones I found in the books he gave me. When he met Sheila, one of the first things she and I talked about was books. Literature was their whole lives. Well that, me, and Lucy."
She risks a quick look at her sister. She is leaning into Chloe's side, looking down into her lap. A tear falls onto her bare knee but she doesn't move to wipe it away.
"There's a quote from one of the last books he gave me, it goes, 'Sometimes we get sad about things and we don't like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don't know why we are sad, so we say we aren't sad but we really are.' But today, we're all sad about the same thing. There's no hiding it. No pretending. My dad and Sheila were good people. And it seems, lately, that the world is losing a lot of those. Thank you all for coming. I know it would mean a lot to them, and it means a lot to me."
She walks back over and takes the seat on the other side of Lucy. She moves back into Beca's side. Chloe squeezes Beca's arm and gives her a tightlipped smile when she looks up at her.
"Would anyone else like to say a few words?"
Lucy grabs at her pants. She reaches into the pocket but she doesn't feel the crinkle of paper she's expecting. Chloe and Beca both look over to her.
"What's wrong?" Beca asks.
"I don't have my letter. I lost it." Lucy says, suddenly finding it very difficult to stay quiet.
"Are you sure you didn't just leave it at home?"
"No, I put it in my pocket before we left the house and now it isn't there."
Tears leak out of her eyes and Chloe puts her hand on her knee.
"It's okay, we'll find it."
"I won't get to read it."
Beca leans in closer, kisses her temple, and whispers.
"They know, Lou. They know all of it. It's okay."
Lucy falls into sobs. Chloe gestures for the Chaplin to keep going. They wrap up the service and he announces that there will be a small reception back at the Mitchell house. Chloe helps them get the urns to the car along with the flowers. Beca sits with Lucy, still crying almost completely in her lap now.
"Chlo, you should go, people are going to be at the house-"
"It's okay," Chloe sits down down next to them and rubs Lucy's back, "Stacie and Aubrey are there, they said no rush."
It takes a while for Lucy to calm down. When they get her into the car, she slumps over in the back seat and leans her forehead against the window. Chloe drives slowly, she knows being in the car makes Lucy nervous now, understandably so. Beca keeps looking back at her but she knows they aren't going to get another word out of her.
When they get to the house, Lucy rushes past both of them into the back of the house. She sits at the piano and sighs. She smacks the wooden key cover and lets a few more tears drip out of her eyes. She stops when she notices a figure standing in the doorway.
"Hi Lucy." Officer Fields says, he gives an awkward wave.
"Oh, uh, hi."
He gestures toward the chair near the bookshelf in the corner and she nods. He moves over and sits down, perched on the edge as if he is planning a quick getaway.
"I think this belongs to you."
He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. It has a pink heart drawn on it.
"How did you-"
"It was on the ground in the driveway. Don't worry, I didn't read it. Just enough to know it's yours."
She takes it from him and unfolds it.
"It would be okay if you did. I wrote it for my parents the night after they died. I was gonna read it today but then I guess I dropped it."
"It's not too late."
"Yes it is. The funeral's over."
"So?"
He shrugs and runs his hand over his hair. She realizes now that this is the first time she's seeing him out of uniform. He seems much more human out of the brown and khaki button up.
"People will say stuff like, I never got to say goodbye, or they'll never know how I feel, but that's all crap."
She looks up at him wide eyed. There's a knowingness in his voice that sends shivers up her spine.
"It's never too late to let the people you love know you love them. But I can tell that they know you love them."
"Knew."
"Know," He says firmly, "they're a part of you, for as long as you live they'll be around."
He stands with a little huff.
"I have to get to work but I just wanted to come and check in. You and your sister are going to be just fine."
"How can you tell?"
"Well, for starters, I met some girls out there, the Bellas?"
Lucy scoffs and nods.
"You have a lot of people out there, still very much alive, that love you and Beca very much. You'll be just fine."
"Thank you, Officer."
"Tucker. You have my number if you need me for anything."
He gives her a quick wink and walks out of the room. She watches him go. She's not sure what to think of the man. She isn't sure that she'll ever see him again but she's thankful for him nonetheless.